


Records

by YoroiNoKyojin



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoroiNoKyojin/pseuds/YoroiNoKyojin
Summary: The next time Charis Kawasaki was asked for a favor from Three Dog, she demanded a signed record in return. She knew a wonderful ghoul at Moriarty's Saloon in Megaton who would appreciate it more than anyone else in the Capital Wasteland.A CUTE, FLUFFY little story featuring Gob/F!LoneWanderer! If enough people want more I'd be tempted to write it!!
Relationships: Gob/Female Lone Wanderer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Records

> _**I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim** _
> 
> _**I just want to be the one you love** _   
>  _**And with your admission that you'd feel the same** _   
>  _**I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of, believe me** _
> 
> _**I don't want to set the world on fire** _   
>  _**I just want to start a flame in your heart** _
> 
> * * *

When Three Dog summoned Charis Kawasaki to the radio station for a favor, it wasn’t the first time, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. After her initial deed of getting that damned communication relay dish, he’d come to rely on her for any and all of his needs — and to be frank, it was getting annoying. Even after helping her father with Project Purity and getting some clean water flowing in the Capital Wasteland, it seemed peace still wasn’t an option for the woman. 

Thankfully, this time, Charis came prepared with a demand of her own: a signed record for a special someone.

_ When she’d first come upon Megaton six months ago, Charis had been fresh out of Vault 101 and felt like she was choking to death. The air, the food, the water, even the  _ people  _ of the wasteland were… stifling. Lost, confused, and upset, she’d practically stumbled into the small settlement. The people there were nice enough, much kinder than the mutated creatures wandering the wastes, but that did little to quell her extreme unease. Some purified water, non-irradiated food, and inside air seemed to help a bit, and once she was feeling a little better, she was pointed toward Moriarty’s Saloon  _ —  _ with her father in mind, she climbed her way to the upper level of Megaton and entered the rickety metal building, feeling a tad queasy. This whole town, build around a  _ still active  _ nuclear bomb, she’d discovered, felt like it might blow at any minute  _ —  _ and furthermore the buildings all seemed unstable, like one wrong step might cause the whole thing to keel over and crash to the ground. Then  _ that  _ would set the bomb off and  _ **_BOOM_ ** —  _ the whole city and the surrounding wastes were reduced to ash. _

‘Your paranoia is getting the best of you,’  _ the petite young woman reminded herself, taking a deep breath and analyzing her surroundings with perceptive jade eyes. There were a couple of patrons here and there  _ —  _ and a woman with hair just as rose gold as Charis’s own, peering at her with curiosity written all over her face. The woman was pretty scantily-clad and puffing away on a half-burned cigarette; finally she said, “you’re new around here, aren’t ya honey?” _

_ Charis offered her a grin. “And you’re not, I’m guessing.” _

“Ha.  _ You’re smart, kid. I’m Nova. Ain’t seen your face around before. Hey; do yourself a favor and just… keep walking. Some of us stay for a few days… and then it ends up being five years later…” _

_ Charis swallowed. Yeah… that sounded about right. This sleepy little town, living right on top of a fucking  _ bomb,  _ seemed like the kind of place that would keep you there forever if you let it. “I’ll be on my way as soon as I get some info on my dad… I’m looking for him. I was told, err, Moriarty, would have some insight on where my dad’s gone.” _

_ “Colin, eh?” Nova glanced behind the bar, taking a drag of her cigarette. “Hey, Gob; where’s Moriarty? I thought he’d left earlier to receive a shipment.” _

_ Charis followed Nova’s gaze behind the bar and that was when she noticed who  _ —  _ or  _ what —  _ was messing with the static radio there. Without thinking, she blurted, “what  _ are _ you??” _

_ The creature shifted its bloodshot blue-ish eyes in her direction; she could immediately tell it was male… and upon a little further inspection, she realized he wasn’t a creature at all. He was a  _ human.  _ A horribly irradiated one, from the looks of his symptoms. Her first question: how was he even  _ alive?

_ “What? You ain’t never seen a ghoul before?” he asked, his voice a tired rasp. _

_ Nova smirked almost devilishly, pointing at Charis with her cigarette. “I  _ knew  _ it. The obviously Vault-made suit aside, only Vault-dwellers would be ignorant about ghouls. Also explains the ‘wide-eyed doe’ look you’ve got going on.” _

_ How could a human survive such radiation? The cogs in the scientist side of Charis’s mind began turning fervently and she longed to get closer for an examination. It was times like this when she was reminded just how alike her father she was. Although Charis inherited a little skill that seemed to skip her father; she’d convinced herself that it came from her late mother instead. “I’m pretty good with my hands,” she said to the ghoul, moving toward the bar counter. Charis noted the way he discreetly moved back, as if afraid. “I can fix that radio up for ya.” _

_ “If you can get the damn thing fixed, you can have a beer on me,” the ghoul rasped in response, shoving the broken contraption over to her. Pulling a screwdriver from her pocket (she never went anywhere without at least a few of her tools, and leaving Vault 101 was no exception), she popped the back off of it and set to work. Nova seemed to watch with interest as Charis began crossing wires and testing the sound.  _

_ It didn’t take too long for her to find the right wires, even in the jumbled mess that consisted of this old pre-war radio, and she crossed them in one hand, keeping them secure. Glancing up at Nova briefly, she asked, “got any rubber bands?” _

_ “One of the few things I  _ do  _ have,” the older woman responded, stubbing out her light and pulling one off her wrist. “That’s my only one. I usually put in my hair. Hope it helps. You owe me.” _

_ With a roll of her eyes, Charis took the band and began carefully wrapping it around the exposed wires. “With an insulator this thing should last a pretty long time,” she said as she finished up her work. “The problem was that the exposed wires kept rubbing up against each other and when that happens, the electric signals get all confused. They don’t know where to send the sound. This should do the trick.” _

_ Placing the back onto the small machine, Charis delicately began tuning the device until Galaxy News Radio popped up, loud and clear. Charis leaned back on her stool slightly, pleased with her work; the ghoul across the bar counter stared at her with wide eyes. “I've been trying to get that damn thing to work for a week,” he muttered, going over to the supply fridge in the back and coming back with a dark brown bottle. Setting it on the bar, he said sincerely, “thanks for the help. Let me see if Moriarty has come back yet.” _

_ Then he left the bar briefly. Charis stared at the bottle, not having made a single move to touch it. “I’m only nineteen,” she finally said, mostly to herself. “I’ve never had alcohol before.” _

_ Nova’s eyes shifted between the girl and the beer. “It’s the fuckin’ wasteland, kid. Societal rules don’t exactly apply here. We’ll give just about anyone short of an infant a drink here as long as they’ve got the caps.” _

_ Charis hesitantly took the bottle, still staring at it. Only the ghoul’s re-emergence seemed to break her hesitant gaze from the drink. She looked up at him expectantly. “Ain’t come back yet,” he explained briefly. His pale blue-gray eyes shifted to the bottle in her hands. “We just serve what we can find or what comes in shipment. I’m sure it’s not up to par with what the Vault-dwellers drink  _ —”

_ “This kid has never even tasted alcohol, Gob,” Nova chipped in, smirking. “Can you believe it? What do they do to you down there in that Vault? I thought they popped bottles of champagne daily down there.” _

_ “It’s not a lavish lifestyle at all,” Charis countered almost defensively. There seemed to be a prejudice that ran in the wasteland; did  _ all  _ settlers in the Capital seem to think Vault-dwellers were rich folk having Brahmin steak and caviar every single night, or was it just the folks of Megaton? “We had to sacrifice a lot to live in the Vault. We were safe from radiation, sure  _ —  _ but we had to grow our own food, maintain our water recycling system, and keep strict rules that everyone had to follow. Everyone worked  _ — everyone.  _ I was put to work at ten years old, working and repairing machinery and attending to any system that malfunctioned in the Vault. But the worst thing about it… was how cramped it was. No above-ground air, no sunshine, and no privacy. No room for yourself, no freedom to make your own decisions. The Overseer decided everything  _ for you.”

_ “Shit,” the two responded at the same time.  _

_ Gob grabbed a rag to clean the counter absent-mindedly, although it did little good considering how filthy it really was. “Doesn’t sound great… but I’ll admit, before I turned into a ghoul, I would have given just about anything for a radiation-free place to live.” _

_ “Wasn’t all bad, sure,” Charis replied, watching her bottle pensively. “But I left the Vault to find my dad. Something big had to have happened for him to just… leave me down there. He was  _ — is —  _ my best friend. I’ve gotta find him.” _

_ Gob stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Well,” he began with a hint of a crooked smile, “enjoy the piss you’re about to drink. Sad that your first experience with alcohol in the wasteland has to be this toilet water.” _

_ Charis laughed, lifting the bottle in a toast. “Cheers, my good man. Thanks for the free piss.” And she tipped it back to drink. _

_ And almost upchucked the meager lunch she’d had.  _

_ “You  _ —  _ you weren’t lying,” she gasped, coughing and spitting on the floor as both Nova and Gob took delight in her misfortune. “I think  _ —  _ I think I’ll just have water…” _

_ The door swung open with a clink and Nova turned her attention to the man who just entered  _ —  _ a regular customer for the sex worker, by the way their conversation went. Soon they were exchanging caps and heading off to a room upstairs, leaving Charis alone with the ghoul, considering none of the other few settlers would sit close to the bar. Glancing around, she rose a brow. “Seems ghouls aren’t exactly, uh… liked.” _

_ “Well look at us,” Gob answered gruffly with a shrug, setting a dirty bottle of water in front of her. “When they look at us, most people just see how ugly we are. You stepped into a whole world of crap, lady.” _

_ Charis’s brows furrowed before she shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I look at you and I’m kinda fascinated, to be honest.” _

_ Gob stared at her for a long moment with a myriad of emotions on his scarred visage. Was it really so odd that someone… liked him? It was a bit sad, and  _ more _ than a bit angering. Could people really see someone else as lesser just because of the condition of their skin…? Without even realizing it, Charis had clenched her hands into angry fists. The ghoul’s eyes seemed to go right to those fists. “Never heard that one before. Just… don’t hit me,” he murmured, sitting down to listen to the radio. _

_ “Hit you? Why would I — …”  _

_ At the moment, Charis hadn’t understood. It was only after she’d met Moriarty a little while later that the pieces fell into place; this money-hungry piece of shit was abusing the poor bartender and nobody else in Megaton cared enough about ghouls to give a shit. It hurt Charis to think about. But she was in over her head in these wastelands and her first priority was finding her father. _

_ But she swore that, when the time was right, she’d come back for Gob. _

Upon the completion of some reinforcements to the Galaxy News Radio station outer defenses, and the sprucing up of Three Dog’s favorite mic, Charis had demanded her reward; the radio host seemed more reluctant to do this favor than he had any of her more ridiculous or outlandish requests. Perhaps because this one was a bit more personal.

The Ink Spots record that had sat proudly on the wall behind Three Dog’s work station now sat in Charis’s gentle hands. The record was old, probably broken; it most likely didn’t even work… but that didn’t matter, because it was  _ signed by Three Dog himself.  _

And she knew just who would love this little gift.

Traveling to Megaton took at least a solid day and a half, most of which was perilous and filled with wasteland creatures who wanted to rip her freaking head off. But she got there, most importantly with the record intact, and made her way straight up to Moriarty’s Saloon, hoping that the owner wasn’t there and that a certain ghoul bartender was. Having known each other for a solid six months now, the ghoul’s face practically lit up when he saw her. Charis knew she was one of his only true friends in this dump, and frankly it was the same for her. Though she now owned a small house here, she still hadn’t gotten very close to any other member of the small settlement. And to be truthful… she wouldn’t have it any other way. In her mind, Gob was really the only person in Megaton  _ worth  _ knowing. “Got a new shipment of whiskey in,” he rasped as Charis approached the bar. “This stuff isn’t half bad. So strong it’ll probably turn your stomach inside out, though. Wanna give it a try? On me.”

Charis’s lips curled into a bright smile. “It’s good to see you too, Gob. I miss you every time I leave this place.”

The ghoul seemed taken aback for a moment, but picked himself up much more quickly than he used to and went back to cleaning a dusty old glass. “Any new stories to tell?”

“Just the usual. I visited the Underworld again! You think the beer  _ here  _ is bad… the beer  _ there  _ tastes like Deathclaw piss. There are a lot of interesting people there.  _ So many ghouls. _ I think I was in heaven!”

Gob’s scarred lips quirked into a half-smile. “I’d do just about anything to get out there and explore with you.”

The woman’s expression turned mischievous. Leaning forward, she closed the distance between them and lowered her voice. “Why not come with me? What’s to stop us from just walking out of here and never coming back?”

The ghoul seemed taken aback by her closeness, leaning back just slightly and blinking bloodshot eyes rapidly in confusion. It was hard to tell beneath the scarring of his skin, but Charis liked to think he was blushing when she got close to him like this. “Moriarty would kill me,” he protested, his own voice equally low.

“Over my dead body,” the woman countered much more seriously, before sitting back down in her seat and rummaging through her bag. Pulling out the record, that smile returned and she laid it on the counter, pushing it gently toward him. “Got this for you while I was at the Galaxy News Radio station.”

Gob stared silently between Charis and the vinyl on the counter for several minutes. The silence stretched on until the woman thought something was wrong and her brows furrowed. Hesitantly, the ghoul reached out for one of her hands resting on the bar and laid his own over it. Charis hadn’t known what to expect when touching a ghoul, really; slime? Cold? Rough?

His hands were indeed rough, but they were… warm. And his pale, bloodshot blue eyes were filled with that same warmth. In fact, they were practically glowing. Her playful grin was replaced with something like surprise. Was  _ she  _ the one blushing now…? “You’re the only human in this whole settlement who’s bothered to treat me like a person,” Gob finally said, still clutching her hand. “The only one who’s ever wanted to be my friend. Who didn’t hit me or spit on me. I’ve always wanted to thank you, from the very first day we met… but I didn’t know how.”

Now Charis could understand the glow in his eyes:  _ appreciation. Gratitude.  _

_ Something else…? _

Perhaps Charis’s fascination with the ghoul wasn’t… just that. Perhaps her desire to befriend him wasn’t just simple intrigue of his skin, or desperation to find comfort in this rotten wasteland. Gob was a good person. A  _ truly good  _ person in such a horrible, horrible place.

Finally the wanderer’s other hand came to settle over Gob’s, her touch tender. Her voice was soft as she looked him in the eye. “Being around you is more than enough for me.”


End file.
